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The silent crisis: Rising suicide rates among Gen Z

The silent crisis: Rising suicide rates among Gen Z


The silent crisis: Rising suicide rates among Gen Z

Our entire family attended the funeral. The room was heavy with grief, not a dry eye among us. A young man, brimming with potential, was gone, and no one could fully grasp why.

Sarah Holliday
Sarah Holliday

Sarah Holliday is a reporter at The Washington Stand.

Did you have any idea a staggering percentage of young people were emotionally suffering between 2014 and 2024? That’s a large span of time, I know. Yet, shocking, nonetheless. Here’s the headline: “Suicide claims more Gen Z lives than previous generation.”

Stateline analysis brought forth this reality. “For Gen Z adults,” the outlet wrote, “the oldest of whom are now reaching their late 20s, suicide is taking more lives than 10 years ago when millennials were the same age.” Breaking it down further, black and Hispanic men, mostly in southern and midwestern states, make up roughly 85% of the increase, with suicide becoming the second-highest cause of death for young Hispanics. For Asians, suicide became the number one cause of death.

Reportedly, the states with the highest rates were “Georgia (up 65%), North Carolina and Texas (up 41%), Alabama (up 39%) and Ohio (up 37%).” As Stateline further emphasized, “The highest rate is in Alaska, which was also highest in 2014, up 34% to a rate of 49 suicides per 100,000 population, followed by New Mexico and Montana. The lowest rate was in New Jersey, with a rate of 6.9, a decrease of 31% since 2014, when it was ranked No. 47 behind California, New York and Massachusetts.”

The data also put a spotlight on a sobering reality for 2025: “Gen Z suicides have continued at a fast pace this year, with 1,148 in January and February, the latest months available from the federal Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, about the same as in 2024. The CDC bases its data on death certificates.”

The analysis explained what some states are doing in response. North Carolina and Minnesota, among others, have reportedly released action plans that coincide with a federal initiative designed “to reduce suicides among Black young people and children, with 15 states and the District of Columbia chosen to make state-specific policy plans,” Stateline wrote. Over the years, suicide rates have risen and fallen. Right around 2000, they allegedly started rising even despite decades of lowered rates. Even then, rates for middle-aged people deflated, while the suffering of young people persisted.

And so, the question, then, remains: what is causing this? Stateline put it this way: “Experts disagree on the root causes of the growth in suicides, but they see a wave of untreated depression that can lead to suicidal thoughts, one that affected all age groups after the Great Recession but lingers on among young adults, especially non-white men. Theories behind the increase range from bullying on social media, since Gen Z was the first generation to grow up with the internet, to economic despair, to cultural resistance to seeking help for depression.”

The list of possibilities only continues: Is it social pressures? Men trying to be tough? Untreated trauma? Dave Marcotte, a professor at American University in Washington, D.C., claims there’s “no one magic answer.” And, honestly, he’s probably right. How could we pinpoint every single reason why someone would feel miserable enough to choose to end their own life? Some leave behind notes, others have counselors or therapists they confided in before the tragic decision. But for so many precious image-bearers, they leave this earth with many left wondering: Why? Why did they do it? I thought they were happy.

I’ll never forget the day my sister got a phone call from someone, letting her know that a friend of hers had committed suicide. For some reason, we were both hanging out in our brother’s room — without my brother present. I don’t know why she was up there, nor do I know why I was up there, but I’m glad I was there for her. I’m glad I was able to give her a hug, and, as best as a little sister could, tell her it would be okay.

Our entire family attended the funeral. The room was heavy with grief, not a dry eye among us. A young man, brimming with potential, was gone, and no one could fully grasp why. Even I, who never knew him, found myself tearing up. It was a stark reminder of a reality so many endure. As years have gone by, I can say that I myself am no stranger to the valley. So, reflecting on this crisis and the endless possible reasons behind it, one truth stands out: sin.

We live in a fallen, broken world. But who actually needs that reminder? It’s so evident it hardly needs stating. Pain, death, sickness, and the ugliness of sin stain nearly everything around us. As someone immersed in politics, I understand why many avoid the news or feel overwhelmed by its weight. We’re locked in a spiritual battle, one that feels more palpable now than in recent memory. Sin is relentless, heinous, and destructive, with a singular aim: to kill and destroy.

I don’t know why my sister’s friend chose to end his life, and it seems neither did those closest to him. But I know he lived in the same broken world we all do. While we remain here, the harsh truth is that sin’s grip won’t loosen. We’ll continue to feel the crushing weight of the world, the sting of failures that pierce our souls, and the heartbreak that threatens to tear us apart. I wish it weren’t so, but it is. For those without a guiding light or hope for peace, life can feel like an endless, desolate tunnel of despair. If that’s all there is, why go on?

Our hearts should break for those trapped in such darkness. Yet, amid this pain, there is a radiant truth: there is a reason to live. There is meaning to life. In Christ, we have a purpose that transcends the shadows and offers hope to those who answer the call. In all my conversations with unbelievers or skeptics, I try to make it a point to address the elephant in the room: the secular worldview offers no satisfactory answers to life’s biggest questions. Tell me, apart from God, why you’re here or where you’re going. Tell me, apart from God, why it’s worth it to persevere through suffering. I’m not saying the secularist can’t provide an answer, but they can’t provide one that satisfies.

Christians, through the Bible, can. Albeit not perfectly, why else would there be so many in-house debates? But one truth all Bible believing Christians must agree on is that we’re sinners, we need saving, Christ died on the cross to save us, and because He rose again, eternal life is granted for all who repent and trust in His name. This is the gospel, which is “the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes” (Romans 1:16).

We’re facing a silent crisis that’s gripping Gen Z — and others — where despair and untreated pain claim far too many lives. But there is a beacon of hope. The gospel offers a transformative truth: we are not alone in our struggles, and our lives have profound purpose. Christ’s love and sacrifice provide a path out of the darkness, a reason to persevere, and a promise of eternal hope. When we read these sobering statistics, may our reaction be to rally together — families, communities, churches — to share this message of salvation, to listen with compassion, and to shine light into the lives of those who feel lost.

Every life is precious. We’re called, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to point this generation — this world — toward hope. We’re called to evangelize, stand firm in truth, and radiate God’s glory to a world that is so clearly desperate for a lifeline. We have that lifeline. What are you going to do with it?

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